by Dayna Quince
“Start a fire,” he ordered Theo.
Theo built up a small fire, grinding his teeth as he considered what to do about this new problem. Maybe they should offer her money for her silence. The Marsdens were poor. Surely a few pounds could keep her quiet.
His brother lit a lamp, and Theo stood, studying Miss Lunette in the golden light. She was trying to be brave, but her fear was palpable.
“Well? If it’s all the same to you, my feet are cold, and I’d like to get to bed.”
He met Callen’s gaze. What are we going to do with her?
Callen picked up the chair with one hand and moved it toward the fire. “Please, sit.” He gestured to the chair.
She lifted her chin and moved to the chair, placing her hands on her lap, and waited.
Theo moved closer, stopping a respectable distance away and leaning one arm on the mantle.
“This herb you are searching for, what did you call it?”
“Star herb,” she said.
“And how do you know about it?” he asked.
“I read.”
Theo straightened and folded his arms. She had more spine than he initially thought. “What use do you have for this herb?”
“Really, now what business is it of yours?” she returned.
“It seems a bit unusual. A woman such as yourself hunting for herbs at night. It is strange, is it not?”
She raised a brow. “Are you certain you want to discuss strange behaviors at night, Mr. Denham? Wouldn’t it be easier for all of us to pretend nothing happened at all? That we are all three of us tucked tightly in our warm beds?”
Theo glanced to Callen. “This one’s rather sarcastic.” He might enjoy this verbal sparring if his very life wasn’t hanging in the balance.
Callen drifted over. “Perhaps you are not up to the challenge?”
Theo’s temper rose. “You know I love a challenge. But she presents more of a problem. How do we solve this problem?”
Miss Lunette cleared her throat. “Perhaps you could ask the problem, or better yet treat me like the person I am and not talk about me as if I’m not here.”
Callen stroked his chin. Theo viewed her with renewed interest. How much money would it take? But she might turn to extortion if he offered her a sum for her silence. And then what would he do? Bloody hell, he didn’t have time for this. Seduction would be simple. Seduction would make her an accomplice, and she’d have to stay quiet or ruin her own reputation.
The thought alone revolted him. He felt no attraction to her. Had he really sunk so low?
Yes. He was at his lowest. He didn’t want to admit it but here they were, and he didn’t see any way up.
“I think I can keep her quiet,” he said, though he could hear the disinterest in his own voice. His stomach sank.
“How so?” she and Callen asked in unison.
Their gazes caught together in surprise and Theo frowned. There was a strange tension between his brother and Miss Lunette, almost as if… No. It couldn’t be. Neither of them could afford to lose their heads over women. He stepped in between then, blocking sight of his brother. He set his hands on the arms of her chair and leaned over her, cocking his head to the side.
“I’d like to make you a deal, Miss Lunette,” he said. Money or pleasure. Which would sway her more? He prayed it was money.
“Back away from her.” His brother’s voice filled the room with command.
Theo set his teeth and backed away, scowling at his brother. They stepped away so she wouldn’t hear.
Theo wondered at Callen’s sudden protective posturing. What was this woman to him? “Bloody hell, Callen. I can seduce her into being quiet, I know I can. She’s nothing but a simple country lass.” He taunted Callen to see how he would react.
Callen glared at him. “You’re not seducing an innocent woman—especially not her.”
Especially not her? So, she was special to him. Which made her an even bigger problem.
“We don’t know that she saw anything or that she has an inclination to report what she saw,” Callen continued.
“Damn it, this is my life we are talking about. We can’t afford for her to let something slip in the wrong ear.” And he can’t fall in love. They were leaving. Together. That had been Callen’s plan. Not his. It had surprised Theo, but the more they did together the less Theo felt as if he was alone in the world. And he rather liked that feeling, even if his brother was a pompous ass most of the time. He was still his brother, and in him, he saw glimpse of both their mother and father. It was the only thing that made Theo want to hang on to Callen. They’d died long ago but, in this way, they still lived. It was what made Theo desperate to do the same.
“If you care about your life so much, stop trying to destroy it. I’ve wasted enough of my own trying to save you from all your damned mistakes. I put my body in front of the bullet for you. I won’t let her do the same.”
Theo didn’t need the reminder. He knew Callen was in pain. The wound was only a week old. He had nightmares about the moment Callen stepped between Theo and Sir Kirby, the pistol firing, the seconds that dragged out into minutes as they both fell to the ground. He couldn’t help that his fear and guilt lashed out. But Theo was too proud to let his own brother see the truth.
“What is your plan, brother? All-knowing, omnipotent Callen will save the day again, won’t you? Great hero that you are.”
“I must have done something terrible to deserve you as a brother,” Callen said.
“I didn’t ask you to help me. I’ve never asked you to help me,” Theo snarled in return. And this was exactly why. Asking for help always had a steep price.
“And yet here we are. You’d be dead without my help. When are you going to grow up? You can’t charm, bribe, or fuck your way out of every situation. At some point, you have to admit you did wrong and take responsibility. And for Christ’s sake, learn from your past and make better choices.”
Theo nodded bleakly. He knew all that now. “Then what would you do, brother? If you didn’t have me to make you feel so superior?” he taunted, mostly out of habit. But the guilt stabbed at him.
Callen cocked his head to the side. “What would I do if I didn’t have to clean up after all your messes? Well, I guess I’d be able to live my own life.”
The muscles in Theo’s jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth. “I think you can handle this too, can’t you?” And then he left the room, because he couldn’t bear the weight of his emotions. Certainly not in front of a stranger like Miss Lunette. She’d stumbled upon a gunpowder keg of deep animosity, and she didn’t deserve to be caught in the blast. He was shaking as he left the room. He needed a drink. He only made things worse. That was never more apparent.
Chapter 3
Nicolette Marsden carefully dressed this morning in an amber-colored gown, loaned to her by the new duchess, Violet, and taken in around the bust. Violet had more curves, whereas Nic lamented her boyish frame and small bust. She envied the more feminine forms of her sisters. As she followed her sisters into the breakfast parlor, she couldn’t help feeling like a fraud, an imposter who had snuck into a party to which she didn’t belong.
Nine gentlemen had arrived yesterday to be matched with her and her eight sisters.
Well, not all of them. They hoped for one match among them, a miracle in and of itself in Nic’s mind. But all it would take was a single marriage to save her family from destitution. They were poor and desperate. Not attractive qualities. But somehow, the Duke and Duchess of Selbourne, their closest neighbor, had summoned nine wealthy gentlemen to this house party to save them.
As nine daughters with no brother to inherit their fathers struggling little estate and house, their Cousin Irving was next in line, and he cared not to support them.
They must marry. All of them, at some point.
But at only nineteen, Nic didn’t see why it had to be her.
Surely Anne, the oldest, should wed first. And then Bernie, Georgie, Jeanie, Josie
, Luna…then her and Odette, her twin. At only seventeen, Willa was the youngest of all of them and least expected to marry.
And if Anne wed a wealthy man, which these gentlemen all were, then it would buy Nic time and perhaps a season.
Last night was their first dinner at the castle, and though it had not been a complete disaster, it had certainly been clear to Nic that she needed polish. A lot of it.
She could comport herself reasonably well and dance passably. Josie had seen to their education, and they regularly had tea with the duchess but…these men. They were different than the men she knew in their corner of Northumberland. These men intimidated her, from their blindingly polished boots to their handsome, sculpted faces, their words and manners so polished she felt like a dairy maid among them.
She feared this meant one thing. Should she ever see London and enter a ball room, she’d be a wallflower. Or she could banish all thoughts of London from her mind and instead marry a simple gentleman farmer like her father, hopefully one with considerably more skill than her father had.
From her earliest memories, she’d watched her family struggle. This house party might very well define their future but only if one of them married. They were without dowries, and while the estate had no debt attached to it, it hardly made enough to keep the house from falling apart. There was simply no reason for any of these men to want to marry a Marsden daughter.
So why had they agreed to come to this house party?
She puzzled over that question as she filled her breakfast plate and sat beside Josie. Half way through her breakfast, Luna took the chair beside her and set down her plate with a weary sigh.
“You’re a bit late this morning,” Nic said.
“I didn’t sleep well,” Luna answered.
Nic nodded in sympathy. She’d gone to bed last night feeling like she’d broken into the castle and would be discovered at any moment. The bed was easily larger than two of hers, or it seemed so because she didn’t have to share it with her twin.
“It’s odd, isn’t it? One would think it would be a relief to have a bed all to oneself, but instead I feel so strange, like it’s too much space and I’m exposed to attack.”
Luna took a sip of her tea and frowned at her. “Attack?”
Nic shrugged. “Silly, I know, but so is the fear that something is lurking under the bed, and yet as children we used to leap from the counterpane so the monster couldn’t snatch us.” She giggled. She was speaking nonsense, and her nerves jangled like sleigh bells as she scanned the room and caught sight of Mr. Denham, the most elusive of the gentlemen. Last night at dinner she’d caught him staring at her frequently. But otherwise he paid her little attention.
Her heart tripped over itself as she studied him, holding her tea cup to her lips as if it was some kind of shield. He wore a jacket of hunter green that made his hazel eyes more emerald than gold. Morning sun cast ruby ribbons through his dark hair. Her breath left her in a rush.
“Thank you for the reminder,” Luna said. “I shall have to jump into bed this evening before it can grab my leg.”
Nic blinked and refocused on her sister, drawing breath again. “It’s interesting how things we know not to be true can still make us afraid, no matter how ridiculous. Like when Papa once told us we had to sleep with a glass of water beside our bed so a werewolf wouldn’t get us.”
“But only during the full moon,” Luna said.
Nic grinned. “Tonight is a full moon.” Her gaze returned to Mr. Denham, and her smile fell away but excitement hitched in her throat. Werewolves were men cursed to become monsters and devour the hearts of their victims. That could be an excellent analogy for a rake. A man driven by desire and lust—transformed by it—until he lay waste to an innocent’s tender emotions without mercy.
She swallowed.
And then she shook herself free of the spell. She was no match for a man like him. Fanciful thinking would do her no good. She didn’t know him from Adam, and the very last thing she ought to do was become infatuated with a fantasy.
That was all he was to her.
A dream.
Chapter 4
Theo pulled Callen into an empty hall after breakfast to see what he’d told Miss Lunette.
“So, what happened last evening? Did you tie up our loose end?”
His brother grimaced. “I did but I may have made things a bit complicated.”
“You bloody devil, you seduced her, didn’t you? You took my idea for yourself.” Theo chuckled and shook his head. Last night he’d been supremely annoyed with the notion, but this morning after a good English breakfast, he was willing to overlook it. Callen could use a little smudging of his polished reputation. Though seducing an innocent wasn’t a smudge; it was a black mark, but who was Theo to judge?
“I did no such thing,” Callen snapped. “I’d have to marry her and then what? I can’t marry a woman and then abandon her because my idiot brother managed to kill a judge’s nephew.”
Theo sobered. “We don’t know he’s dead yet.”
“No, but every day that passes and we don’t hear from Coombs doesn’t bode well for him. The bullet struck his gut.”
His temper shot off like a firework. “The bullet wouldn’t have hit him at all if you hadn’t intervened. My plan was to shoot in the air.”
“His plan was to shoot you, but instead he hit me.”
Guilt stabbed at him, but he wouldn’t relent. If Callen could have trusted him, just the tiniest bit, things would have been fine. “Again, not my fault you stepped in between two men with pistols. I had it handled. You weren’t supposed to be there. Coombs was my second, not you.”
The muscles in his brother’s jaw flexed, no doubt he was grinding his teeth. He looked weary too, like he needed to return to bed.
“I’m tired of arguing about this. I’m tired of arguing over every damn little thing about your life.”
“Then don’t,” Theo returned. “I never asked you to play nursemaid, now did I? At some point, you’ll have to let me clean up my own mistakes, Callen.”
“You don’t know how because you’ve always had someone there to do it for you. You’d be dead if it weren’t for me,” Callen said. “Father and Mother spoiled you with their love. You never had to face consequences for your actions. And now you’re full-grown, and you still need someone to come and rescue you. How am I supposed to stop?” Callen asked. “Truly, I’d love to know. I’ve already taken a bullet for you. I think I’ve reached my quota for brotherly devotion.”
Theo rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic, brother. You talk as though I’d walk off a cliff if I didn’t have you to steer me in the proper direction. No one asked you to look after me. I know you do it because it makes you feel so superior. You can prove to yourself over and over how you’re the better son. You wanted their love for yourself, didn’t you? They loved us both, Callen. It wasn’t a competition. I was never going to replace you in their eyes.”
Callen scowled at him. “Mother and Father asked me to look after you. I never believed you were trying to replace me. You are my brother, and for that alone, I will always try to protect you, even from yourself. I never thought we were in competition, but I always worried if I wasn’t there to keep you from walking off a cliff, you would willingly jump on a dare. I can’t control your every action, but dammit, I will always try to save you. Now, as for what I told Miss Lunette…”
Theo glanced away, his throat tight. His brother had never said any of this to him before. Talking of their parents brought back so many emotions, anger most of all, and a deep, insidious sadness he couldn’t seem to shake. He hadn’t been able to say goodbye to his parents before they succumbed to a shared illness, but Callen had. He’d been summoned home and hadn’t bothered to take Theo with him.
Theo couldn’t forgive that. Whether it was done intentionally or not.
He drew in a breath and tried to marshal his temper.
“I told her we were agents of the Crown on officia
l business,” Callen continued.
His mind blanked. “You… You what?”
“Though she had already come to the conclusion we must be smugglers, or rather, not us, but Weirick and Roderick. She didn’t appear too distraught by that idea either. I think along these smaller coastal towns, smuggling is less a sin to the locals than it is to the authorities.”
“I don’t believe what I’m actually hearing. You told her we were spies?” Theo asked with a loopy grin.
“I would have gone with the smuggling bit if I’d known that was what she was thinking, but I didn’t. I thought the more serious and legal the situation might appear, the more she would remain silent.”
Theo wanted to clap his brother on the back, but he looked weak enough to topple over. The absurdity of the situation took the edge off his anger. “To think you didn’t use this bit of scintillating secrecy to get under her skirts, my, what a wasted opportunity.”
“I wasn’t thinking about getting under her skirts. I was thinking about covering our tracks. We are not here to dally with innocent women, Theo. We’re here to make sure you don’t hang.”
Theo scoffed. “I’m not going to hang.” It was his automatic response. He’d said it so often to himself he could almost believe it. Almost.
Callen raised both brows. “Judge Blackwood nearly hung a baron. He’s fighting to abolish privilege of the peerage.”
“It will never happen,” Theo muttered. He prayed it would never happen. His privilege was all he had left. And his brother. He cleared his throat, but the tightness didn’t leave.
“What do you think he’ll do to a second son?” Callen asked. “I can’t protect you from the law, not with Judge Blackwood presiding over it with an iron fist. We’re talking about his nephew.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” Theo bit off, “not with you reminding me every day.” He had nightmares of the moment he had looked over to Sir Kirby on the ground, an ungodly amount of blood spilling from his belly.